~ The view from Forty-something

Tag Archives: Ocean

These pictures were taken just yesterday. We are experiencing a delightful summer here on the west coast that, while seductive and bone warming, makes me a little anxious. Fires are common here. We need rain and the dry winds rattling the palm trees are not conducive to creating the sodden vegetation that resists arsonists sparks. My anxiety level rises with each cloudless sunrise and yet I stop to see and appreciate the beautiful place in which I live. Fires and all.

Happy Hour times two.

Before I submerge myself into moist, war-torn England via Downton Abbey, here are some views from the “backyard” I frequent at least three times a week. It is an important part of my world, this place. If only I had a Downton gown to wear while strolling on the beach my world(s) would be complete.

Sometimes there is a hunger deep down that manifests itself as a cold or irritability or as a general malaise. It can manifest as the desire to eat a whole pizza or drink too much bourbon.

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It can show up in road rage or the unreal desire to face down the last person who broke your heart while swinging a sword, samurai style, and shouting “How dare you?”.

I discovered, this weekend, that that hunger in me was a need to sit and do nothing but stare at nature.

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A weekend at a friend’s house with a reading nook looking out onto the ocean cured my starving soul. From morning, to afternoon, to sunset I sat and watched the grasses move.

The reading nook.

I witnessed the pelicans fly by in solemn brown groups of four, five and eight. Sometimes they were so close I could see their feathers ruffle in the updraft.

The giant eucalyptus tree at the end of the yard stood stark at noon and glowed in the late day light.

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A stiff breeze made it’s fragrant leaves whisper and soothe that deep, down hunger for nature that I have sorely neglected as of late.

From the outside looking in.

I read a lot in the reading nook, but mostly I just stared out at the ocean and let it sink in like the balm that it can be, the food for the soul that it offers just by being there; blue and unabashedly big.

Inside looking out.

My cold-like symptoms disappeared, my samurai fantasies melted into peaceful understanding. All became right with the world once more.

Night in the nook.

I was reminded of my great fortune – the fortune of family and friends – connections that offer the opportunity for respite and renewal in an oceanside cottage; all of it possible and made better by the blithe spirit that came into the world twenty-two years ago.

A treasure of a person that changed my singular world for the better and continues to change the world as a whole.

Toes in the PACIFIC - Spring, 2010. With a good pedicure. Yes, I know I have a giant space between my toes.

I couldn’t wait to put my Pacific chilled feet into the warmer Atlantic. Sandy toes! Body surfing! Running along the sand in my flowing beach dress! Early morning runs on a beach untouched by footprints! Blessed summer vacation for a whole week! Yay!

Toes in the ATLANTIC - Summer, 2010. No pedicure. Still have the space.

The very first day, I stripped off my beach cover up and strolled down to the water. It was a bit chilly, but so clear! A light breeze nudged the Atlantic as I ventured deeper. The sandy bottom was rippled and soft. Finally in up to my thighs I pushed off to rise over a wave.

Longport Beach.

I came down and there was a laser like zing that went from my heel up to my knee that elicited a gasp. The next wave went right through me as I stood trying to figure out what had just happened to my leg. Jelly fish tendrils? A Nemo love bite? JAWS?!

I limped back to our beach camp. It felt like a pulled muscle or a really bad Charlie Horse. No big deal, I assured everyone. I massaged it, put ice on it, it would be better the next day.

Not so much.

The sharp pain had lessened by morning, but by late afternoon the sides of my ankle were swollen with a dark, purple bruise. It’s awesome to be on a beach vacation with purple elephantitis of the ankle! The diagnosis of pulled calf muscle with some trauma/separation from the achilles tendon was decreed. Apparently when trauma happens in the calf muscle, the blood pools in the ankle. I iced and elevated and compressed it (still am) and succumbed to my sedentary state.

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Obviously, the universe or whomever was wanting me to really STOP on this vacation. Stop and contemplate and stare at the ocean rather than running along beside it.

So I did. And I also sampled FIVE different kinds of cheese steak (McCools in Avalon won the taste test), savored some gelato, experienced an Italian hoagie, cream donuts, and cinnamon rolls, assorted cocktails. Then there was pizza. And more pizza.

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Prior to this trip I was aware that I needed to slow down. I need to be still more often and look around me, focus on one thing for more than a moment. I’ve been distracting myself, lately, with movies and books and work. Distracting myself from what? From the thoughts (good and bad) that inevitably arise when your body and mind are quiet, the clear thoughts and solutions that come through when we are still and focused and in this case, staring at the ocean.

I had a lot of profound thoughts on this trip, some having to do with my life, many having to do with pizza (where the next slice would be coming from) and most having to do with LOVE.

LOVE of BABIES (One miracle baby in particular)

LOVE of OCEAN

LOVE of FRIENDS

LOVE of FAMILY

LOVE of a CERTAIN MAN

Solitary confinement. In a good way.

It’s good to get away. But it’s even better to return with clarity, purple ankle and all.

She was calling her siren song this morning, from the moment I opened my eyes. I shut them and turned over in bed, knowing that I had neglected her for more than a year and not wanting to face it in the bright Spring light, pale as I am. But she kept calling and calling…

Impossible to ignore, like a much beloved child calling from his crib after a missed nap; Come to me. Come to me. Love me and I will return it even though my lack of nap and crying is driving you crazy.

The morning breeze was blowing warm, jasmine scented air into the bedroom and I was a a done deal. A smitten kitten.

I drove quickly and walked faster, layed down and there she was – the beauteous Pacific Ocean. Her shores were rough. The winter had been hard, but she was producing her best face today. Pacific. Pacified. Calm.

We bonded in the tide pools, as the summer sands had yet to arrive and cover the rocks.

She reminded me that things that may seem clear

can be vague in an instant

only to re work themselves into a new configuration of clarity seconds later.

Ebb and flow. Ebb and flow.

These tiny shells sat sunlit on a tide-side rock.

My family named this giant rock, below, Shell Rock and have been visiting it since the Pacific put it there sometime prior to 1969. She is mighty to move Shell Rock as she is gentle to place shells on a rock.